


Pulse

by say_im_good



Category: B.A.P
Genre: (hint the human he finds is daehyun), Humans are extinct, M/M, Robot AU, Sci-Fi, daejae - Freeform, everythings frozen, hominum is a nicer word for robot btw, post apocolyptic world, until youngjae finds a human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-06 05:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13404585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/say_im_good/pseuds/say_im_good
Summary: The world ended 50 years ago, at least for the human species, as the world fell into an icy wasteland. Their creation, robots, are living on under the name ‘Hominum.’ The cold doesn’t affect their bodies, which have been created in suit to the frozen wasteland beyond their living spaces. Their brains are replicas of a human’s brain, created by human scientists during the process of the downfall. Humans are extinct. This is what Youngjae knows.Until, venturing further from base than permitted, he finds a lump in the snow.





	1. Dawn

_‘Fully charged.’_

A soft sigh escaped round, polymer lips, and Youngjae always hated the dull tightness in his limbs from being inactive for so long. A charge was only supposed to take around thirty minutes, if it was performed daily. But thirty minutes a day was a waste of time, when those thirty minutes could be spent socializing or nuzzling into one of the countless shows, books, and performances that humans left in their wake. Himchan always chastised him for allowing his body to run until he shut down, saying that it would ruin his performance later on if he didn’t take care of his body. But that sounded more like a human problem, and Youngjae was not human.

The door swung open, and Himchan was irked, if his stern, black eyes were anything to show for it.

“I was just thinking of you.”

_“Youngjae…”_

“I knew you would be angry because you were last time.” It was a simple process, and Youngjae smiled when Himchan scoffed, further entering the room and sitting stiffly in the chair beside the bed that Youngjae rested in. “Do they need to stick a rod into your ears, or is it your behavior that needs adjusting?” The elder scolded. Youngjae redirected his focus away from Himchan’s introduction towards the door, where Jongup stood with a quaint expression as always. He smiled in silent greeting to Youngjae, who smiled back. Himchan raised his voice to bring the focus back to his words.

“Youngjae, I was tasked with teaching you to function properly so that you can be a beneficial member of this society. You are not being in the slightest beneficial by dropping to the ground once a week and having to be crated to the medical ward for a recharge. If you only sat down for just thirty minutes a day, or even fifty-five every two days! The medics are already questioning whether I’m overworking you!” He sounded slightly more desperate each time he entered this room, Youngjae was rather amused by it.

“Thirty minutes a day, fifty-five minutes minutes every two days. Doing basic math, I’m cutting nearly an hour off of my charge time by just waiting it out.”  

Himchan huffed, and Jongup only took a moment to come to the same conclusion, saying simply, “He’s correct. I also did the math,” as if this would take any stress away from their caretaker. It did not.

“Whether he’s _correct_ or not isn’t what I’m talking about. It doesn’t matter how much time in a week you save, what matters is that running yourself empty all the time will eventually make you weaker, which will cause you to need to recharge more and more often until you’re always on that charger. At that point, the Makers will probably decide that your existence is not worth the costs of simply making a newer, better functioning, and _smarter_ -” Himchan narrowed his eyes, “-hominem.” Do you want to be replaced before you hit fifty years old?

“If my conscience is deleted when I’m replaced, I won’t have the emotion or sense to really give a damn about existing or not, so why does it matter? I’ll enjoy my existence to the fullest now, and I won’t be conscience to regret it after I’m disposed of. It sounds reasonable enough to me.” Himchan groaned, but Jongup chuckled at Youngjae’s words, and that was enough to bring the cat-eyed hominus to a smile once again.

“You’re hopeless.” Himchan finally sighed, discovering for the umpteenth time that arguing with Youngjae was like throwing a ball at a trampoline, waiting for the ball to pierce through despite how it always springs right back. The elder rose from the chair, tilting his head from side to side; He’d needed to get his neck checked on for months now; But Himchan, despite his scolding of Youngjae’s procrastination between charges, was the one who taught Youngjae his laziness in the first place, and it would probably be several more weeks before he actually came to the medical ward for a check up.

“I’ll be returning to the preserve now. Because your limbs are probably stiff, I’d suggest you do some stretches before returning to work.” Jongup stepped to the side in all quiet grace as Himchan made his way towards the door, stopping in the frame to glance back at his oldest, yet still very young, tenant. “I only scold you because I worry for you, Youngjae. You’re too smart to be in awful health in your later years. And despite that, you’re my best worker. So take better care of your body.” His footsteps down the tile of the hallway dissipated in the next few seconds, followed by Jongup’s, until once more the room was silent besides the whirring of the air conditioning units outside.

As if suddenly reminded by this noise that there was an outside at all, Youngjae found himself slipping out from under the pristine white sheets, twisting his back, bending his knees, pulling his arms from side to side until he felt somewhat less like a statue. Once the joints in his legs were flexible enough to allow movement, he paced to the window and peered outside. The plains were white as always, currently clear of any storms. White. That was all that was outside. The walls of the indoor city were painted colors to match different aesthetics, some painted to resemble what the world used to look like before the the snow began to fall, with luscious fields, green forests, small villages of humans and animals and cobblestones and red roofs and things that were so vibrant before they became so…

... _White_.

Youngjae found himself rather nostalgic of the old world from time to time, which was rather strange because he’d never lived in it. Back when humans roamed in masses, it was all just a concept now, a setting in a book, a background in a movie. The Uppers had tried to replicate human life as much as possible, as they were taught to by their creators who were human themselves. But certain things were lost over the course of fifty long, humanless years, food being among these things, certain emotions and ideologies being another. Humans were to hominus as fairy tales were to humans, and Youngjae was one of the many who was so intrigued by what had come before them. He longed to know more of the beings that created their species out of metal and plastic, then more complicated materials, the creatures that called creations like him ‘robots’ until said creations could think for themselves, then switching to a more fond term; Hominus.

What had gone so wrong, to turn such a vibrant, complicated world into a white, barren wasteland? What had gone so wrong that the supposed most intelligent, adaptive species to ever walk the earth had fallen into extinction, leaving behind their creation as a final hope to continue ‘life’ on Earth, even if it was entirely artificial? This was what Youngjae thought of that the others didn’t, the things that weren’t so pretty or fun to imagine. Why did the humans die? Why couldn’t they adapt? What caused the storm that brought the world to a halt, and why couldn’t the humans with all of their technology prevent it?

But there weren’t answers to those questions yet, and there was no use pondering them when they’d only bring him to curiosity, which Himchan always said was dangerous in large amounts. So Youngjae distracted himself by looking past the white, looking up rather than down.

The sky, in contrast to the white, was currently black in the early morning hours, and as per usual it was filled with little speckles of stars and galaxies in formations that swirled and waved. Sometimes color would fill in the void, swimming through the darkness, which to Youngjae’s delight, was happening right at this moment.

Smears of greens and blues painted the skies, and Youngjae always found himself lost in a strange fascination with them. What were they? Why did they exist? Himchan always said he was too curious for his own good, that he shouldn’t stress himself trying to research things that weren’t of any worth to understand. Himchan could shut up for all he cared. According to the humans this was art that he was looking at, art floating in the sky. And according to the humans, art was to be treasured. So he treasured it.

For example, there was a human studies museum in Section 375 that was well populated for leisure or study. The section of this museum that displayed human paintings, including the painting of these sky swirls, was in comparison rather vacant, only really used by the Makers to introduce new Hominum to colors and test their visual ability. Youngjae himself upon creation had to have his ocular lobe reinstalled four times before he was able to read further than a few centimeters away, before he could tell red from green. Maybe the fact that he’d spent so much of his young memory in that room, looking at the different ways humans perceived and recreated their surroundings, was what made him more curious than the rest now.  

But how could the morning sky not be stunning when everything under it was so bland?

He peeled himself away from the window, deciding that he was conscious enough to return to the preserve like Himchan had asked him to. He’d memorized the route back given how many times he’d needed to be recharged in the medical ward, and the walk was rather uneventful. Other hominus wearing brightly colored clothing to match their own aesthetics were pacing either to do the work they were assigned or to find something else to pass the time. He peeked into the theater room and saw a drama on display, the human woman with an hourglass figure crying after a human man with large muscles. There was no point in curves or over-sized muscles in hominus, and they brought no interest or personal gain, so the Makers didn’t include things like genitalia or varying body shapes in the hominus they created. Everyone was of a lean, straight build, a similar height, everyone had straight, dark hair; There were small differentialities included, an inch or two on height or maybe longer legs from time to time, if only to bring more uniqueness to the society. But Youngjae always thought it was amazing how humans were so different from one another, their skin, their hair, their eyes, their builds, everything so specific to each individual person.

Another thing Himchan would think was useless to ponder about. He dropped the topic from his mind with a frown.

The preserve that Himchan, Youngjae, Jongup, and Junhong worked at was a branch of the museum that focused on nature, plants to be specific since there was no technology to reincarnate and animals were long past extinct at this point. They grew different types of trees and flowers in a small park-like setting that visitors could stroll through or spend time in at their leisure. Plants were easy to sustain, since, like hominus, they could simply be reborn from their remains. As Makers re-pieced and modified old hominus frames to create new hominus, Youngjae would take the seeds from the dying plants and set them in the soil to regrow once the plant was plucked from the ground. It was simple, sustaining life such as this. Water them as much as they need watering, tamper with the climate controls, snip off dead leaves. The bugs and other pests that plagued nature no longer existed to be a burden, and a few sprays of the correct chemicals had the flowers standing strong for much longer than they naturally were supposed to. It was a simple, calming, and rather beautiful job, and Youngjae found himself blessed to have been given this task rather than cleaning the filters in the air conditioners or poking at artificial bones all day trying to figure how to improve them.

Upon entry, he could see Junhong right away. Slightly taller (only slightly, as hominus rarely different much in height), Junhong stood out amongst the rest. He had a young face that reminded Youngjae of one of the small, fluffy dogs he’d seen in a movie, and he was almost always smiling. Even now he grinned as he looked up from the roses he was plucking thorns from, raising a glove to wave at the elder. “Youngjae! Good morning!” Junhong was, like Youngjae, more interested in humans than most other hominus; Though terms like ‘good morning’ were dropped after sleep became an unnecessary action, the younger still loved to say it when Youngjae ran out of charge, or ‘went to sleep’ as the taller often said. “Good morning, Junhong. Are you really still with the roses? The daffodils need plucking, I noticed the lilies haven’t been watered since I shut down... You’re going to be here all night at this rate.” Junhong smiled at what was obviously a scolding of no actual consequence, and replied with a laugh, “Then why don’t you come help me?”

Four hours of tending to flowers later, they moved to the bushes and trees, Junhong standing on a short ladder to clip the dead branches of the maple tree they’d planted a year ago while Youngjae focused on gathering seeds to store for later. It wasn’t so clean a task. Some of the trees, like walnut trees, had shells around the seeds that needed to be cracked open, while others had their seeds stored in fruits. Youngjae’s task at the moment was to simply collect what fell from the trees, various fruits and nuts, into a large wagon that he trailed behind him. Once Junhong finished his task, they’d both return to the barn to pluck the exteriors from the seeds and sort them into barrels.

It was a messy, tedious task. As the sun set beyond the skylights that made up the entire ceiling, Junhong, Youngjae, and Jongup sat on the dusty wooden floor of the barn, surrounded by tiny labelled baskets that were very slowly being filled with different types of seeds. Nuts encased in shells would take either a small tool or a large amount of effort to crack open, while fruits were gushy and would make their hands sticky. Youngjae always felt a spurt of joy when Himchan told them they had enough of something and they could just throw the excess nuts or fruits away.

Because in all practicality, there was absolutely no use for these things. In a world where trees had to protect their seeds from animals, shells were important, and in the same world where trees needed to have their seeds carried further from them by animals, fruits were important. But this wasn’t a world anything like that anymore. Humans could eat fruits and nuts, but humans were gone now, and hominus didn’t need to eat, didn’t have the systems required to process and digest foods like humans did because really it was all too complicated and entirely unnecessary. Youngjae had at the very least taken an interest in the fruits that humans loved, so vibrant in colors and ranging in shape and size, but after working with them for the five years since his creation, he no longer found anything but a burden in them.

“I hate peaches the most. Stupid peaches,” Youngjae muttered under his breath as the orange gush slipped under his fingernails and coated his palms. Jongup hummed softly, before replying, “Avocados?” Youngjae winced, remembering the texture of said fruit. “They count as peaches too, the only difference between the two is the color and smell.” Junhong chuckled at Youngjae’s frustration. “I can do the peaches if you want. All you have to do with these berries are sort them.” But the older sighed, shaking his head lowly. “It wouldn’t do to have both of our hands sticky instead of just mine. It just feels kind of pointless.”

The door to the barn swung open, then closed, and Himchan nodded fondly to Youngjae as he walked in. Despite the hassle the younger brought him, Youngjae wasn’t disobedient or rebellious, and he wasn’t surprised to see him here doing his job, even if he hated this specific portion of it. “It’s not pointless at all. Even if the humans and animals didn’t exist, the fruit still needs to be around for us to compost and make proper mulch to plant more seeds. It’s all a cycle, that’s all natural life is.” Youngjae pondered over Himchan’s words, shrugging loosely. “I guess so, but I wish the fruit could just peel itself.” The peaches were finally all shed of their pits, which Youngjae quickly rinsed in the barrel of water beside him and dumped into the bin labelled ‘peaches.’ He quickly hurried to the wagon, picking out the seven apples he’d found on the ground that day and holding them in his lifted shirt before returning to his spot on the floor. Apples were still sticky, but at least they didn’t gush when he opened them. A few quick, technical slices, and he was plucking the tiny black seeds from the yellowed core, dropping them carefully into a bowl by his crossed legs.

“Do you think the humans did this?” Junhong asked, as Himchan was now in the room to answer. Youngjae didn’t know why they always came to Himchan with their questions; He was twenty years old now, much older than the three of them combined, so he knew the most about things that hominus should know about. When it came to humans though, Youngjae figured even he knew more than Himchan did, simply because Himchan didn’t really care. But still, they looked to their elder, and he made up some excuse that may or may not be true as always.

“Of course they did,” he muttered, and Youngjae knew he was already tired of hearing the word ‘human’ twenty times a minute. “They planted trees and flowers just like we do. They probably did it more often too, given that they needed the fruit and nuts for nourishment while we just think the plants are pretty and historic.” The three young hominus hummed with satisfaction, always being rather curious in their youth, much to Himchan’s dismay. He’d been tasked with training them and teaching them how to tend to the preserve and how to function in society so that one day they could take his place when he got too old. Most hominus only lasted till around thirty-five years of age before they could no longer take the upgrades needed to continue functioning properly; In about fifteen years, maybe more maybe less, Himchan would leave their side and Youngjae would be the head of the preserve, training young hominus in the same way until he passed. Artificial life in comparison to human life was simple, structured, and rather short. But logically, it was better this way.

Dumping the pieces of apple into a trash bin to his right and the freshly washed seeds into the ‘apple’ bin, Youngjae stretched his arms above his head. Jongup finished with the pistachios shortly after, and the two began to assist Junhong in dumping the water basin, placing the seed barrels back into the corner of the barn, rewriting the seed counts on each one, and finishing menial tasks. Youngjae made his way out of the preserve with a large bag of gushy, smelly fruit remains and nut shells that would poke into his back through the plastic of the bag from time to time. He hated them, the shells and the fruits, in all of their inconvenience. Even if Himchan said they had a purpose, he really found them to be useless. The fruit’s sweet scent went sour in days, his hands were always stained with something until he gave them a good scrubbing, the nut shells left on the barn’s floor would poke at his feet when he walked barefoot, which was far more comfortable than wearing shoes if the shells just didn’t exist. He carried the bag to the nearby compost as he always did, holding his breath from the stench of old fruit that wafted out of the large tin before dumping the contents of the bag in with the rest of the decaying life below. It was his least favorite part of his job, the ugly and smelly part, and it was perhaps the only reason why he was glad he hadn’t been created before life on earth ceased to exist.

‘Fully charged.’

The monotoned, female voice echoed in the same way it always did, and Youngjae sighed as he hoped Himchan would be satisfied with him. He only waited two days to recharge this time, as opposed to waiting until his systems had no energy left to function. He eagerly jerked the wire out of the tiny outlet on the back of his head, swiping down his dark hair to cover the small hole and making his way out of the room he slept with. Hominus were given living spaces that they shared with the same people they worked with, functioning like human families in this way. Youngjae’s ‘family’ per se were the same three people he saw every day that he cared for and that cared for him; Himchan, the oldest by far who taught the younger members what to do or not do acted as the parent figure. Youngjae was the eldest sibling, in human terms, teaching Jongup and Junhong things that Himchan didn’t have the chance to, or didn’t want to. How to change the screen in the theater to play what you want, where the paint was kept to slather on the white walls until the Aesthetics team got around to actually giving them color, those types of things. The Uppers didn’t harshly regard rebellion as long as it wasn’t too dangerous or intense, because as beings trying to resemble humans as much as possible in most aspects, rebellion was only natural to remain individuals amongst one another. Jongup was the second oldest, four years old, the quiet ‘sibling,’ the soft one that didn’t bother with complicated or negative things. Junhong was the youngest, only two years old since his creation now, still with much to learn, the sunshine of their ‘family.’ They each had a tiny room that led out to a larger one for private socialization, and that one led out into a hallway that every other ‘home’ in the facility was attached to. There were hundreds of doors, forty five floors, their home being on the thirtieth. It was all structured and comfortable enough.

Youngjae found Jongup laying on his stomach in the living room, scribbling notes on a piece of paper as their tiny television went on about growing habits of specific plants, different types of soil, which plants needed more or less sunlight, et cetera. Youngjae had already studied these things long ago, when his interest in nature was at a peak, so he rather focused himself on studying Jongup’s intense focus with a smile of fondness. “You’re really diligent,” he commented after the video ended, scanning over the quickly scribbled notes as the younger touched up on them. “Are these for Junhong?”

Jongup nodded gently. “Himchan said he’s got the flowers down but needs some extra help remembering which trees are which and distinguishing the shrubs. Junhong is good with colors, like you, so the flowers were the easiest. I’ll show him how to tell the shapes of the leaves on the trees apart in the next few days before I give him these,” the younger stated rather fluidly, holding up his notes with a smile before placing them neatly onto the empty surface of one of the many shelves carved into the smaller wall of the rectangular room. Youngjae put his hand gently on Jongup’s dark hair, a way of an older giving praise to a younger, and Jongup smiled brighter before blinking somewhere behind Youngjae, at their calendar.

“It’s the thirtieth today. We have cleaning duty,” he said rather flatly, as if he didn’t know beforehand. Youngjae nodded; He’d known since the Uppers notified them at the start of the month, but perhaps Jongup didn’t look at the calendar as often as he should. At the end of every month, four ‘families’ were chosen to go out of the compound and each clean up one of the four walls that made up their large city. Each wall was around four miles long, and the effort was tedious, but being alive for five years Youngjae has only had to do it once before and besides the long walk, there wasn’t much inconvenience to it. They were spared of their work duties for the day since the task usually took until nightfall anyway, and Youngjae even preferred scrubbing debris and ice from the walls to picking the pits from peaches, so it was fine with him.

“Himchan’s excursion is tomorrow too,” Jongup whined, seeming saddened by this. The eldest of the four had been summoned by the Uppers last month, told that a number of sprouts had been found a day’s travel away after the (at the time) recent storm blew the snow off of them. He was to be sent with a small team to recover and try to revive or regrow these plants, to see what they were and what they did. He’d be gone for a full week, half out in the wasteland and the other half with the other researchers, studying hard. Youngjae was confident that they’d be fine on the preserve and in the home without him, so he never brought it up, figuring the younger two could figure it out from the calendar. “It won’t be a problem, Uppie,” he promised. “Himchan will be fine and we’ll be fine until he gets back. It’s only a week.”

The next morning, the focus was back on the more recent of the two events: Going outside the walls.

“It’s easy,” Himchan explained to the two youngest, who had never been outside of the compound before. They were layered in coats and jackets that made them look like the puffy little black-and-white birds that were painted on one of the entertainment wing’s walls, Junhong even had a beanie atop his dark hair. “The cold isn’t really that bad unless the wind is blowing, and even still it’s bearable-”

“Isn’t the cold the main reason why the humans died?” Junhong asked flatly, blinking with wide eyes that made him look even more innocent than he usually did, and Himchan could only sigh. “Humans had much more sensitive bodies than we do. They were warm blooded and their bodies couldn’t maintain homeostasis with weather so cold. We were made to withstand this sort of temperature. While a human could only last hours being outside right now, it’ll just be somewhat uncomfortable for hominus like us. So while those coats may block the wind, they’re rather unnecessary.”

With an awkward form of semi-embarrassment, the two slowly began to shed some of their layers, draping them over the back of the couch as Youngjae held in a laugh at how cutely naive they were. He was like that too, at first, but knowledge comes with age. Himchan made his way to the door and the three followed behind, down the elevator, walking through familiar hallways into unfamiliar ones until they approached the security gate. “Be careful out there,” the man behind the desk smiled. “I’ll be heading home around eight, but I’ll leave the door unlocked so you can come in.”

“Is that really safe?” Junhong asked uncomfortably, but the man simply laughed. “What do you think could come in here? There’s nothing out there but us on this lonely little planet. It won’t be a problem.” Himchan nodded in affirmation; After all, he would be going out even further into the wasteland, had done it a few times before. There was no danger, other than being caught in a snowstorm and unable to recharge, but they made batteries that could be attached to the snowmobiles for that sort of thing. For beings such as them that didn’t need to eat or rest or stay warm to survive, there was little danger in a world with no other beings to threaten them.

The gate swung open, then the thick doors that kept the stabilized air in, and the four stepped out into emptiness.

White. It was more overwhelming like this, when it surrounded him rather than just existing beyond a window pane. The walls of the compound were white, of the door that closed behind him were white, the snow was white, the sky was so pale of a blue that it could be called white. It was almost blinding, like they were specks of color in an infinite lack of it. The realization that they were the only conscious beings for literal weeks of travel (as other compounds with other hominus did exist elsewhere) was difficult to comprehend, and Youngjae focused his attention more on the task at hand.

They had been given the west wall to clean, thankfully one of the shorter two of the rectangular compound’s sides, and it really wasn’t that bad to begin with. Debris from when the humans once lived used to pop up all the time after rolling with the wind, but most of it by now was piled under mountains of snow. He picked up a plastic bag that had been shredded somehow, a tiny bell that was too wet to make a pretty sound, a wrinkled old shirt with a flower design that wasn’t really that attractive, while the other three focused on scraping the larger formation of ice from the walls and swiping the snow from the windows.

Five hours in, after two breaks, they were finished and making their return trip, with probably only an hour’s walk to go before they’d be back at the gate once more. The sky had faded from soft blue to colorful, and was beginning to darken, the winds whisking Youngjae’s hair and clothes back and forth, just a little uncomfortable if anything. It was more annoying, the wind, with its howling that made his ears pop from time to time, and Junhong was already covering his own ears with his hands, trudging through the thick snow in determination to get back inside their comfortable compound.

“See? Wasn’t so hard,” Himchan yelled, his tone casual but his voice having to be raised to be heard over the gales. “Wasn’t hard at all,” Jongup yelled back, but Junhong still shouted, “Are we almost back yet?” Youngjae found himself contributing this time. “About another hour!”

About forty minutes passed by rather slowly when suddenly a soft ring was bouncing muffled through Himchan’s pocket and the elder sighed as he pulled out his phone. The devices were rather expensive, so they were given only when someone needed to be in contact for undetermined periods of time. This left no question as to who was calling. “Hello?” Himchan all but shouted over the winds, pressing the phone to the side of his face. He fell back a little in an attempt to make the conversation more private, and Youngjae could no longer hear his words over the gusts pulsing between them. The wind was really picking up; Maybe a storm would be coming sooner or later. If this were the case, he definitely preferred the idea of being inside before it began, so he picked up pace, and the others easily followed. Himchan was sprinting up to the three once his conversation was over, panting a little from the effort.

“Looks like they want us to head out early, since a storm is going to hit tomorrow.”  Junhong blinked up in surprise, his voice quivering a little with nervousness, “You’re leaving now?” Himchan nodded, patting the younger’s head lightly through his beanie. “I need to run back and get my bags, but yes. They want me back as soon as possible to fully prepare, so I’m going to go on ahead. Just follow the wall until you reach the door, shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes now if you walk fast.” Jongup frowned and Junhong was clearly unhappy. They were, in an off sense of the word, family, and the young ones (even Youngjae, though he wouldn’t admit it) didn’t feel the same sense of comfort and ease when Himchan wasn’t around. Still, they’d be fine. Work was simple and easy, and really their only concern is whether Himchan would find mistakes in their seed sorting when he returned or scold them on the preserve’s tidiness. Youngjae could handle what the younger two couldn’t, so it wasn’t so big of a deal.

“Stay safe,” he simply said with a gentle smile, knowing the elder didn’t like trips like this, given the strain of fieldwork and the less-than-satisfying energy the portable batteries to recharge at gave. “I will, no worries,” Himchan responded, patting each of them on the head once in fondness before hurrying off ahead in a full sprint. “He must be important if the Uppers send him on excursions so often,” Junhong finally said after a moment of quiet walking, Youngjae nodding in confirmation. “He’s the smartest when it comes to nature, the Uppers really like Himchan. That’s why he’s so intent on making sure we’re productive and well educated, so that the Uppers will also like us.”

“But won’t we be sent on missions too then? I don’t really want that, it’s too much work for just… plants,” Jongup asked, and Youngjae grinned. “That’s right, which is why, despite what Himchan says, I think the best method is to do just enough that you’re praised but not too much that there are high expectations set.” Jongup and Junhong smiled at this, Youngjae’s rather lazy mindset in comparison to Himchan’s work-centered one, and the mood lightened as they chattered on the positives; What they could do while Himchan was away.

“We can put all of our blankets in the living room and watch the television while we recharge! He never lets us do anything while charging, it’s so boring,” Junhong stated, having forgotten his discomfort from the wind amongst all the thinking he was doing. “That’s because you don’t charge as well if your brain has to process recovering your body and what you’re watching,” Jongup corrected smartly, but quickly countered himself by nodding and excitedly following with, “Let’s do it!”

It was all chatter and calm, and they were only around seven minutes from the compound’s gate now. Youngjae found himself zoning out of the rather childish conversation to stare out at the empty wasteland he probably wouldn’t see for another number of years before they were called to clean the wall again. Allowing himself to remember the murals on the walls, the human paintings of landscapes, all of the things that this white, ongoing emptiness had once been before something unknown had wiped it all to nothing like an eraser to a page.

That was when he noticed something rather off.

Perhaps it was because his eyes were suited to focus on color; He always loved color above most things after all. He preferred the painted walls to the non-painted ones so much that he left marks on the plain ones until they were painted. He noticed when Jongup’s pants didn’t properly suit the color of his shirt and would promptly send the other to change.

He noticed the small fragment of blue lost in the endless white around twenty feet away from where they stood, an enigma amongst the snow, and after a moment of squinting, trying to see what that blue was, he found himself stepping away from the others to hurry out to it.

“Youngjae?” Junhong asked in surprise, noticing his ‘brother’ wasn’t following him only seconds after Youngjae had taken off. His surprise quickly faded to discomfort, and he yelled out, “We’re not supposed to go from the wall! What are you doing?”

But the elder didn’t hear his words over the wind, deciding that whatever Junhong had said would have to wait as he drew closer, because there was more than just blue now. Something was in the snow, and he waded through it as it raised to his calves, almost to his knees. It would be hard to get out, but the others could help him deal with that later. Youngjae, after all, had always been curious to a fault, and if he ended up trapped in this snow and somehow the others hadn’t noticed him run off and he ended up sitting here until he lost charge, it wasn’t a big deal because he wouldn’t be conscious anymore to worry about it; At least, in that situation, he wouldn’t be plagued with wondering what the blue in the expanse of white was without checking.

It was cloth, he determined as he finally drew close enough. Cloth and… Youngjae blinked. A face? It was a face for certain, perhaps a statue made by humans before their downfall? Interest peaked, he began to shove the snow away from the face, dusting it off quickly and moving downward past a neck to a chest where he paused. Something was off about this statue, and he felt unsettled as he reached down towards the thing’s arm and pulled it out of the snow. Statues were solid, often made of clay or porcelain, both materials that didn’t move with a joint. If this were a statue, the arm would’ve simply broken off, or not moved, meaning…

He jolted back a little, huffing softly to regain his composure. A body. It was a body. He didn’t think that those existed anymore, surely having decomposed after at least fifty years, but maybe the cold could preserve such things like refrigerators did to human food, which he learned about via a book he’d skimmed through once or twice.  He was more careful with dusting the snow off of it now, but so many questions dotted up one by one into the surface of his thoughts. If this is a body, why is it so shallow in the snow? Why isn’t it decomposed even a little? Why haven’t its clothes torn off by now with the wind after being out here for so long? Surely it’s been out here for at least fifty years, surely...

He finished brushing the snow off of most of the form, and was left in awe at what was now wholly before him. It was a man, a young man, one that resembled his age but surely was much older, given the fact that it was a human body rather than a hominus one. Its skin was pallid but still a few shades darker than his own, and its hair was brown and wavy, bangs covering its closed eyes. Youngjae found himself reaching down and touching its cheek, noticing how the skin gave just a little under his fingers, human skin that felt somehow softer and yet more flawed than Jongup’s or Himchan’s or Junhong’s or his own. The human had thick lips that were slightly blue with cold, deep shadows under its eyes that were tinted purple, pinkness sprouting on its cheeks, so much color that Youngjae had never seen on a human face even in dramas or movies with real humans acting in them.

“Youngjae, what are you doing?!” Junhong called, considerably closer than before, and Youngjae yelled back, “I’ll be there in a second, just keep going!” His hand slipped to the human’s hair, which was wet from the snow it was laying in, he rubbed some of the strands between his fingers before moving down to the human’s chest, it’s stomach where he poked and pressed and felt around what had to be its stomach, able to feel a give where organs weren’t when Youngjae’s own stomach was just a soft plate below the shape of his ribs and artificial lungs, nothing as amazing as this. Its arms had muscle underneath the skin, real muscle that was tight from cold, and Youngjae pushed at it.

“We’re not leaving you, what are you doing, seriously?!” Youngjae sighed, refusing to take his eyes away from this body as he yelled back, “Just go! I found something!” Remembering that humans had genitalia, his hand slipped down quickly with excited curiosity and cupped what felt like a lump that Youngjae didn’t have, and he wondered if human standard of indecency and respect for this body was enough to fight the curiosity to pull the body’s clothes off and look as well as touch. Mushy footsteps came from behind him, and Jongup was the one who whined this time. “Jaejae, the snow is too deep, you need to come out. Can’t you bring whatever it is with us?”

Youngjae was about to respond that he very well probably couldn’t before something had the words disappearing from his mouth. Movement. Its stomach, its chest… was…

“Holy shit,” Youngjae breathed, words they were taught not to say, and yet they slipped from his lips so naturally. Its chest was rising and falling. Its chest was…

Its chest was rising and falling shallow and fast: _breathing_ , and when Youngjae dropped to press his fingers against the side of its cold throat, he felt a weak thumping through the skin: _a pulse_ , it had a heart that was _beating_ , and, and-

His mind scattered in every direction while his eyes stayed rooted to this being before him, flickering from its brown ( _not black_ ), curly ( _not straight_ ) hair and its tanned ( _not pale_ ) skin, taking in a creature that he’d been told his entire existence no longer walked this planet, a creature that he’d never even considered could still be alive after fifty years of extinction, laying here in the snow before him. A miracle, it had to be a miracle, either that or he was insane, but despite all logic, this thing, this… this being, was right here!

“Youngjae…?” Jongup asked carefully, and Junhong was also taking slow, uncomfortable steps away from the wall to see what had grabbed the elder’s attention so intensely. He could feel Jongup behind him, trying to see what he was seeing without going so deep into the snow, confused and unsure, but Youngjae was positive at what was before him.

“It’s… Jongup, I think it’s a _human_ ,” he breathed, touching the man’s face again, then reaching back down to feel its pulse as if he’d been imagining it the first time. “It’s a human and it’s alive, it’s breathing. I don’t know how but…” This brought Jongup to his side, and Junhong stayed carefully back, the youngest somehow being the most logical in the moment, at least enough so to be able to pull them out of the snow they might not be able to step out of later. Jongup was just as shocked as Youngjae was, reaching down to touch, his hand delicate on the human’s quivering chest as if he was terrified that a touch would injure it. It took a moment before he was whispering quietly, “But how..? Humans can’t live in this cold.”

Those words, simple and soft, were what snapped Youngjae out of his daze like a bullet, like a freight train.

_“Humans can’t live in this cold.”_

Its pink cheeks, its blue lips, its closed eyes, the weakness of its pulse, the shallowness of its breath. “Its dying,” he realized aloud, and suddenly reason was gone and he was reaching down to try and scoop the human from the snow. Jongup rose quickly from the leaning position he was in, eyes wide in realization as to what Youngjae was about to try and do. “Wait, Youngjae, just wait and think about this-”

“If we wait any longer its going to die, Jongup this is a human! A real, breathing human! We can’t just let it pass away out here, this is a miracle!” He shoved the snow sucking the human downward away and lifted it up, huffing as its body was far heavier than a hominus’s. He could barely step out of the snow without falling face first, but his panic to preserve the life in his arms was intense enough that he found the proper caution in his steps. Jongup followed carefully, and Junhong eyes were discs when they saw what Youngjae was holding. “What is that?! Youngjae what is that?!” He asked over and over, avoiding his own words and rushing from the wall he’d been standing so close to. Over Junhong’s shock, Jongup was protesting, “Himchan is going to kill us if we bring it home, Youngjae, we won’t even make it past the gate-”

“The gate man was going to go home at eight remember? It has to be past to be eight now, the sun has already set, there’s no watch.” Youngjae breathed automatically, staring down at the limp body in his arms. Upon finally reaching the wall again, pants soaked from the knees down, Junhong gasped softly at the creature before him. “It can’t be though, it can’t be,” he repeated, but Youngjae was already in a sprint towards the door. A six minute walk would be a two minute run, maybe a four minute one given that the human was weighing him down. Jongup and Junhong darted after him, all protest to the wind as Youngjae had made up his mind; They had to save this being before it died.


	2. Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'As a hominus, he knew fate wasn’t a logical thing. But he also knew that humans believed in fate strongly. For the sake of this human, this very real and alive one that looked so strange laying in his bed at this moment, Youngjae would pretend that it was fate that this happened, a fate that required him, above all things, to help this human survive. Because he couldn’t have found this human out there so miraculously just to watch it die. Perhaps he was too young to understand cruelty of that sort, but surely life couldn’t be so miserable.'

The door was unlocked as promised, the gate man was gone as promised, and the hallways were rather empty as everyone had already returned to their homes for the night, everyone else too busy in the theaters or chattering to have an interest in where the three hominus were running off to when a lot of hominus found fun in playing chase or other similar activities in the hallways. The elevator was thankfully empty, it was all a miracle that they’d even found the human in the first place, let alone that it was somehow alive, let alone that they made it all the way to their home without anyone noticing that Youngjae was carrying it. The second they entered, Youngjae was barking orders.

“Jongup, you studied human health didn’t you? At least to some extent?” he asked desperately, the other nodding quickly. “Do whatever the hell you’re supposed to when a human is too cold. Junhong, run to the preserve and find the fruits we didn’t collect today, anything you can get!” The two scattered, Jongup into his room and Junhong out the door, as the complaint had been on whether they’d even be able to get the human through the hallways and they had already jumped that hurdle. Youngjae could only find relief now that Himchan had left when he did; The elder wouldn’t have let Youngjae wander off towards the blue in the snow in the first place, and he could hardly believe how the stars had seemingly aligned for this moment to happen.

As a hominus, he knew fate wasn’t a logical thing. But he also knew that humans believed in fate strongly. For the sake of this human, this very real and alive one that looked so strange laying in his bed at this moment, Youngjae would pretend that it was fate that this happened, a fate that required him, above all things, to help this human survive. Because he couldn’t have found this human out there so miraculously just to watch it die. Perhaps he was too young to understand cruelty of that sort, but surely life couldn’t be so miserable.

Youngjae lowered the human to the floor near the small fireplace in their living room that was used only for aesthetics and lighting late at night when the automatic lights shut off for energy conservation. His fingers trembled with nervousness as he flipped the switch that would set off the ignition below the wood already in the cavern, and soon enough a gentle fire was flickering away. He didn’t know what to do, if this would be enough, if this would be too much. Grabbing one of the couch cushions, he rested it under the human’s head and hurried into his room to grab the two blankets from his bed, his pillows, even the stuffed dog replica he’d been given to commemorate his first year of life. As he was hurrying out of his room dragging these things behind him, Jongup exited his own with similar items.

“We need to take off its clothes, they’re wet and going to keep him cold,” Jongup said quickly, dropping the mass of fabric in his hands to the floor and shuffling through it until he found a pair of sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and a sweater. Youngjae nodded, attempting to slip the human’s shirt from its body, but its limp weight was making things difficult and finally he gasped out, “Jongup, help hold him up so I can do this.”

Soon enough the human was void of the freezing, soaked clothing, and Youngjae took a moment to notice the curve of its arm muscles that he himself didn’t have, the small dots on either side of its chest (weren’t only women supposed to have those?), everything from head to toe that was different and similar about a real human in comparison to the imitations that he’d lived amongst for years. “Youngjae, help,” Jongup commented quickly, redirecting his attention back to the clothes on the floor, and Youngjae helped redress the young man in the thicker, dry clothing. Jongup grabbed the excess clothing that he and Junhong had left on the couch that morning, slipping two jackets and a coat onto the human before taking the blankets they’d brought out and layering them over him.

“Humans need to be warm,” Jongup explained as he adjusted more pillows under the human’s head, and Youngjae let him ramble despite how this was a rather obvious fact about any living being, a fact well covered in basic human research. “The fire’s heat should have warmed his body, and now the clothes and blankets will keep that warmth around him. The fire will continue to warm those, and they will warm him, until he’s warm enough to live again.” Youngjae nodded, proud of the younger for knowing all of this and in the end grateful that Jongup had thought to change the human’s clothing, because he himself didn’t. He looked to the wet clothes in his hands, holding them up to see what kind of style they were of. A grey, rather plain jacket, a navy blue coat (the one Youngjae had noticed at first), a black t-shirt, black jean pants, socks, gloves, and a frayed, old looking belt. The human’s old clothes were dirty and torn, and Youngjae wondered where the dirt and scuffs had come from if all that was out there was snow. A pair of old boots they had quickly removed were also strange, because none of this was particularly stylish like the dramas made humans out to be. Maybe this one was poor? No, there was a better reason for it, for all of this. There was an explanation, but Youngjae wasn’t so comfortable thinking about it.

The explanation being that humans had somehow really survived up until now, and that this was only one of an unknown number that still lived somewhere on earth. This human man had come from somewhere, somewhere very close surely, because Youngjae doubted he could’ve survived in such a climate overnight. How many humans were out there alongside him? Did they know about the compound, surely they didn’t or they would’ve shown up by now, but this human may have seen it before he collapsed, which means others were capable of doing so as well. There was so much to think about, so much to ponder, and yet Youngjae erased it all in favor of filling his brain with more useful information.

Junhong returned, his longer arms wrapped fully around one of the wider-rimmed baskets left vacant in the barn, now filled almost to the top with fruits, berries, and nuts scattered from the trees. “I wasn’t sure how much humans ate so I just brought a whole barrel,” he gasped out, as if he’d been sprinting the entire time he’d been gone. “More is better than less,” Youngjae responded with a nod, and Junhong placed the barrel down in favor of kneeling beside the elder on the floor. He stares down at the human, who’s pallid skin had begun to regain color, his hands tight on his pants as if he were unsure if he could touch. Youngjae smiled loosely, still not having lost his nerves from what had just happened, from knowing that there would be consequences to the decision he had just made in bringing the human here. “You can touch it, it’s unconscious right now.”

Junhong nodded, but his hand still trembled when he reached out. Slowly he rested his palm on the human’s shoulder, and it didn’t take long before it had moved to rest on the man’s chest instead. Youngjae watched as it rose and fell under layers of fabric, how Junhong’s hand rode the motion like a wave, up and down, slow and steady. “It… No, not ‘it’.” Junhong whispered, suddenly realizing their fault as Youngjae did. Humans had been fairy tales for their entire lives, historic figures, things of legends. They forgot, as ironic as it was, that humans were people too.

“He,” Junhong corrected, “Is very pretty.” Youngjae nodded slowly. He was pretty in the way that humankind was beautiful to the hominus. Unique, strange, unusual, he was all of these things, he was of a species that now only lived in legends, he was quite literally impossible and yet he was here. “Does he have a name? Will he be able to talk when he wakes up?” Youngjae held his breath for a second, biting his lip softly. Junhongs questions were innocent at best. The more realistic questions were about safety. Surely he would panic upon waking up after how he’d fallen unconscious to see a place completely unfamiliar to where he must live, to see them sitting beside him. How he would panic was the main concern. Youngjae had learned about fight or flight instincts a while back, things that he didn’t have because survival wasn’t as important to hominus who only really lived to fill in the gap that the humans left. Would he try to run? That wouldn’t go well, he looked far too different and would easily stand out if he darted into the hallway. They’d need to lock the doors from now on. On the other hand, would he try to fight? That would be the main concern. Could Youngjae restrain him properly? What if he found something to use as a weapon? They needed to make sure nothing sharp was lying around-

“I hope we speak the same language, I know humans have a lot of different ones. I hope I can ask him about a lot of things.” Jongup’s soft voice pierced Youngjae’s heavy thoughts, and the other placed a large bowl of water beside the fireplace to warm. It was the best they could do, knowing what they knew and having what resources they had. Youngjae found himself almost grateful for the fruit he had been cursing just the day before; If not for that, there would be nothing in the compound for the human to eat, and humans absolutely needed to eat to survive.

“Humans are rather delicate,” he stated softly, if only to add to the conversation that would come and go as none of the three seemed beyond waiting here for minutes, even hours, for the human to wake up. “They need to eat, they need clean water, they need clean air, they need sleep and warmth, but not too much warmth,” Junhong listed slowly, all three of the hominus staring down at the pretty human resting quietly on their living room floor. “They can get sick in so many types of ways, they need to use the restroom, they smell bad if they don’t shower…”

“Kind of like fruit,” Jongup concluded, and Youngjae and Junhong both raised eyebrows at him in confusion. “They’re pretty, but they rot easily and they can smell kind of bad sometimes. This one smells like dirt.” Youngjae sighed at Jongup’s strange analogy, wondering how he made a connection like that but finding it rather valid after a thought or two. He was just thinking about how inconvenient fruit was, but really humans in real life, not just as a concept, were inconvenient all the same. How would he use the restroom when they didn’t have those in the compound? They did have showers to wash off the soil from the preserve, he could use that but… Youngjae shivered. He’d have to clean it often, it was kind of gross. It was so easy in their world to forget that humans weren’t all beauty and uniqueness. Humans were dirty, humans were messy. Humans were a lot more complicated than anything he’d been taught to face, and he’d just carried one right into their living room.

“We’ll be okay,” Jongup said softly, patting Youngjae’s back as if he knew that the older was concerned by his expression. “The person who knows humans best of all is in this room after all.” Youngjae didn’t feel so relieved by this, assuming that Jongup was talking about him, but the younger pointed in a different direction, rather to the unconscious man in front of them. “He’s known humans and human culture and human care his entire life. Once he wakes up and adjusts a little, we can just ask him what he needs.” Right right, as complicated as humans were, they weren’t incompetent. Youngjae found himself struggling to comprehend what this person was. Maybe he really did think too much for his own good.

It was melancholy, the hour they spent talking under their breaths, as if the human were simply sleeping and they were trying not to wake him. Perhaps the nerves amongst the three were spawning from the knowledge that this person right here could get them in an undetermined amount of trouble, with Himchan, with the Uppers, with anyone who found out. There was no rule to bringing a human onto the compound because humans weren’t thought to exist. Was this a crime that they were committing? Despite there being no rule against it, Youngjae felt as though the correct response as a beneficial member of society would be to turn the human in, give him straight to the Uppers upon finding him. But, selfishly, he didn’t want to lose the human before he could even talk to it. He wanted to see its eyes, what color they were, the life behind them that he only saw in dramas. His own eyes in the mirror were so dull, Jongup’s and Junhong’s and Himchan’s were the same, all black with no difference between the pupil and the iris. He wanted to see life as how it should be, real, honest life, not the pretend that hominus had been playing for fifty years now without their creators to guide them. Perhaps after they chatted a bit, he would pass the human on to the Uppers, claim that he feared for its survival and hope that it got them out of any trouble that might otherwise be aroused by their actions.

Breaking his thought process was a small whimper that sounded nothing like Jongup or Junhong. Youngjae blinked down as the human’s eyebrows scrunched together, forming little wrinkles between them. Junhong opened his mouth to speak, but Jongup touched his hand to remind him to stay quiet; They didn’t want to startle the human that was just waking from extreme cold in a new environment.

He whimpered again, more like a groan, and his arm shifted up to rest over his closed eyes as if his eyelids weren’t enough to block out the room’s light. It would be okay shortly, if this light was too much for him; The energy conservation units would be shutting off the lighting soon anyway, and the light from the fire surely was suitable to human eyes. The three hominus were in a trance, staring down, waiting for any movement at all, amazed that the human was moving despite confirming that it was alive hours ago.

“Hurts…” the human whispered. Hurts. That was a word that Youngjae comprehended. Did they really speak the same language? Was humankind’s so-called ‘fate’ really this good to them? But then he comprehended the word, about to ask the human what exactly hurt before realizing that speaking would just startle it. Another soft groan and he was rolling onto his side, wavy brown hair falling into eyes that were now squeezed shut in pain. “Jieun…?” Youngjae’s hopes faded a little. Jieun, was not a familiar word. It was spoken like a question, and he could only wonder what the human was asking, or asking for. Was he wholly conscious? Perhaps he was having a dream, he’d read about those, like strange movies that play in human’s minds while they sleep.  
But then the human, from his momentary stillness, suddenly jolted to a sitting position.

The three jumped with him, startled by his motion, and Youngjae was in awe as his eyes were very much open now. They were brown, he noted, a beautiful shade of deep, reddish brown that reminded Youngjae of chestnuts and pomegranates. Small flecks of gold twinkled in the center of his iris, and his pupils were dilating rapidly as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden bright light. “Where…” he breathed, puffy lips parting slowly as his gaze dragged across the blue walls of the home, the tile floors, suddenly jolting to a halt at the three faces staring in the same awe back at him. He jerked back in surprise, blinking rapidly before beginning to crawl backwards away from them. “Who are you? Where is this?” His voice was rich, beautiful, full of honey and sugar and fear. But he spoke the same language. And at the very least Youngjae could find relief in that.

“Please don’t panic. My name is Youngjae. Me and my brothers rescued you from the snow.” The man bit his lip, his body beginning to tremble a little as if just now remembering the cold he’d been subjected to. Still, his fingers pressed tightly against the tile as if subconsciously attempting to claw into it, either that or to continue crawling away. A thought blew across Youngjae’s mind that perhaps they were as strange looking to the human as the human was to them. Youngjae would panic too if he woke up in a strange place with three strange-looking people staring at him. But the human wasn’t attacking or darting out the door, and that was a plus.

“What section are you from?” the human asked, attempting to sound bold but Youngjae easily sensed how his voice quivered. He didn’t know what the human meant by section, but this was a dangerous question. Luckily, Jongup was the one who answered. “We aren’t from a section. My name is Jongup, this taller person is Junhong. We found you right before sunset just laying in the snow. What’s your name?” The human swallowed, Youngjae could see the motion travel down his tanned throat. “Daehyun,” he said quietly, after a moment of thought.

It was a pretty name, and Youngjae experienced a giddy, perhaps rather nerdy realization that the humans that made this compound’s hominus and Daehyun were from the same country before the world fell, given how their names were of similar structure and their languages were the same. “It’s nice to meet you, Daehyun,” he said sincerely, and the human was still tense, but seemed more confused than threatened at this point.

“Where is this if not a section?” Daehyun asked carefully, biting his bottom lip slightly as his gaze returned to the room surrounding him. Junhong looked to Youngjae, and the elder noted that Jongup was also staring at him for answers. He sighed heavily. They’d have to spill it eventually. At least they’d locked the doors beforehand in case the human decided to run.

“It’s a compound. We live here with others like us,” Youngjae began carefully. Daehyun seemed on edge once more, the bite on his lip growing tighter before he released it to reply. “How is that possible? We’ve sent requests for supplies to every living town left in the world and have gotten nothing back. We thought we were the only ones left, so how is this place so… sustained…? How are you so healthy?” Youngjae held his breath, releasing it with discomfort. He really didn’t want to explain it, but the human was already beginning to raise his voice with nerves, and Youngjae didn’t want a noise complaint being the reason why they were caught. “Daehyun, have you ever heard of something called a hominus?” The man’s eyebrows creased once more. “I don’t see how that’s related, but no, I don’t know what that is,” he muttered low, and Youngjae caught him side-eyeing each of the closed doors in the room. He was going to try and run if they took too long. Once he realizes the doors are locked he’ll cause a commotion. That can’t happen.

Junhong filled in, his words soft and careful. “What about ‘robot?’” Daehyun blinked once, then twice, before slowly he responded, “Of course. Everyone’s heard of those.” Youngjae felt relief course through his body before he continued in his explanation. “Right before humanity fell, scientists created robots, which they named hominus, in hopes that they could replicate human life if humans were to die out. They wanted something conscious on the earth, even if it wasn’t them.” Daehyun’s lips slowly parted again as he worked to understand what Youngjae was saying, his eyes flickering to the hominus’s dark ones, then back down to the floor, then back up in curiosity and fear. “Once said hominus were created, humanity went extinct. This was what we knew. It’s been fifty years since a human walked this planet, or so we thought.” Daehyun swallowed again, quicker, Youngjae could see his chest begin to rise and fall just barely quicker. “Robots, you’re… robots then? You’re telling me that I’m talking to robots right now…” the tone of his voice was tight and uncomfortable. He was going to run.

“Rather than robots, we’re replicas of humans. We go to work every day, we live with our families, we watch movies in our free time,” Jongup began to explain. “In the fifty years since our kind has interacted with humans, we’ve studied them and tried to keep our society and lifestyle as similar as possible. We have no bad intentions; Humans to us are like fairies to your kind.”

Daehyun blinked, once, twice, a third time, his eyes slipping from Jongup’s to the floor, slipping from panic to nervous thought. A second passed in silence, and Youngjae was prepared to have to restrain the human and make him sleep for his own safety when Daehyun carefully mumbled, “Okay. Homen.. No, it was… hominus then? This is a shelter for hominus… which are… you are… really smart robots…” Junhong almost chuckled, and Youngjae smacked him where Daehyun couldn’t see before he could. Best not make the human feel stupid when he was actually taking to what they were saying.

“Even if this is true, which my head hurts too much to try and process more than this-” Youngjae’s mind started rushing through what cures for human headaches he could think of and he shut it up to actually listen for once. “-Why haven’t you contacted us? We’re starving, we can barely survive, its awful down there.” Daehyun voice was suddenly raw with emotion more intense than Youngjae had ever seen, and he gave Daehyun the best of his attention since he didn’t know what could be considered comforting to a human that he could do mid-sentence. “A plague spread a few years ago, it was awful, we called for help and received nothing. Our rations were short, we called for help, nothing. If you’re so smart and don’t want us dead or anything, why haven’t you responded…?”

Youngjae slowly bowed his head, speaking with honesty this time, relieved to not need to rethink his words over and over again as the conversation grew less tense by the moment. “We didn’t know. We’ve thought for all these years that humans died out completely. Up until what you just said, we three thought that you were the only human left alive by some miracle. It’s been fifty years since we’ve been in contact with anyone outside of the compound. We had no idea.” Daehyun was quiet for a long time after that, staring down at the floor before his voice came again much, much quieter than before. “If you’re robots… you don’t eat do you? You don’t have food.” It was a statement, but Youngjae could easily hear the longing behind the voice and quickly stood. “Actually, our family happens to run a small nature preserve. It’s used mostly as a park, but we happen to grow certain trees and bushes that have…” He didn’t expect Daehyun’s head to shook up so fast and paused, his chest cramping in a strange way when he saw the weak desperation behind the human’s eyes. “...fruit,” he continued gently. “Fruit, nuts, berries. We don’t have meat or bread or anything complicated like that. But we have so much more fruit than we can manage. Junhong actually collected some when we brought you in here.”  
Rather than bringing the basket to Daehyun, he motioned for the human to come to him, waiting by the large basket that was resting on the floor near the front door. Without much hesitation, Daehyun rose to his feet… and immediately collapsed back to the floor. Jongup was at his side in moments, Junhong quickly following, and they brought him back to sitting quickly. “Sorry, I’m just a little…”

Right. Even if he seemed okay at this point, human bodies weren’t so adaptable that extreme cold could be bounced back from so quickly. His legs were probably stiff, he was probably dizzy and nauseous. Youngjae had wanted to see him stand, see his body in all of its unique human form, see him walk; That had been selfish, and he lifted the basket to bring it closer. “The nuts and berries are probably at the bottom, but there are bigger fruits too, like…”

Before Youngjae could even begin to explain what they had to give him, Daehyun was already grabbing the first thing he could off the top of the basket and biting into it without hesitation. A peach, Youngjae recognized with mild disdain. A big, orange peach.

But Daehyun moaned a little in relief as he swallowed before even chewing, not seeming to mind the mess the fruit was making on his lips, on his fingers as he took bites in a ring around the pit, which he dropped to the ground in the process of grabbing the next closest fruit to him, a pear. He was so consumed by the food he was consuming that he no longer noticed Youngjae, Jongup, or Junhong staring at him in awe, too busy fulfilling a desperate hunger that none of the other three could understand. Two apples, a plum, a handful of chestnuts mixed with raspberries that hadn’t yet trickled to the bottom of the basket, and three juicy peaches, and Daehyun was just full enough to notice that he was being watched. His eyelashes fluttered as he looked to each of the three, slowly lowering the pit of his fourth peach from his lips, which were stained in pink and orange tones from the juices. “I’m sorry, I’m really hungry,” he explained, but Youngjae quickly replaced his awe with a smile and shook his head. “You’re not doing anything wrong. I’ve just never seen someone enjoy something so much.”

Daehyun gazed down at the pit that he rolled loosely between his fingers, wet with peach juice and shiny in the fluorescent light. “The last time I had a peach was four years ago, a really old, mushy one that had me sick until a full week after.” Youngjae tilted his head slightly in confusion. “In general, I’ve probably only eaten fruit maybe ten times total in my life. It doesn’t grow anymore. Nothing grows.” He sighed loosely, not hesitating to grab an orange from the basket and begin peeling it. “We kept berries going underground for a while, but eventually our last bush died and the dirt was too bad to restore it. Even with natural sunlight, we couldn’t keep them going for much longer; Plants need water, but we need water too, and water is limited. All most of us did day by day was dig for it, but all we ever found was barely enough to fill a bucket half the size of this one.”

Suddenly, Jongup blinked and stood up, hurrying to the fireplace. His disruption was enough to draw the others’ attention as he leaned down and carefully lifted the bowl of water from the floor near the fire. “It’s kind of warm and I don’t really know how easily your skin can burn, so be careful with it but…” Daehyun’s hand trembled as he reached out for the bowl, words forgotten entirely. It was like, when presented with food or water, he became as simple as small animals were said to be, soft and hopeful. He took the bowl after tapping it to decide if it really would burn him, bringing its contents up to his lips and sipping carefully before taking three bigger swallows. He seemed in bliss, that he was able to eat and drink, basic human functions. Youngjae had never considered how bad it could be out there for a human, but now that he thought about it, he could barely believe that Daehyun or other humans were able to survive at all.

“How many humans are living in your section?” Junhong asked after Daehyun had swallowed and removed the bowl from his lips, seeming in the habit of preserving as much water as possible as he hadn’t guzzled down the entire thing immediately as expected. “Twelve. Wait, no… ten now…” he whispered, and there was suddenly a distance in his eyes that couldn’t be comprehended by things like Youngjae that felt only artificial emotion. Daehyun trembled slightly, and Jongup quickly asked, “Are you still cold? We have beds if you want,” and Daehyun quickly nodded in response, no longer seeming to have the breath to speak. Youngjae stood to lead him to his own bed, not minding sleeping in Himchan’s for a few nights until they figured out what to do with this human in their compound. Daehyun collapsed in the bed immediately, curling up onto the soft mattress, and Youngjae put aside thoughts of how dirty he was in comparison to the fresh sheets. Instead he grabbed the blankets and pillows that he’d taken from his room originally, as well as the stuffed bear replica, and tucked them around the human.

Daehyun’s eyes fell shut and his puffy lips parted in a sigh. His tanned skin was beautiful between the white sheets, his brown hair messy from how he nuzzled his face into the pillow. “Thank you,” he breathed when Youngjae was about to walk out of the room. “I don’t understand, I’m not even sure if I believe this is real. But thank you, Youngjae, for saving me, feeding me. Thank you for all of this.” Youngjae smiled weakly, wondering if he was worth thanks when he didn’t know how they were going to secretly sustain Daehyun until Himchan came back, or even after that. But he didn’t disclose these worries. Instead, hand on the doorknob, he replied gently, “Thank you too, Daehyun. I always thought that humans were only myths but…” his voice fell short, and he had to suck in another breath to finish. “But here you are, a more interesting human than I’ve ever imagined existed.” It took a second of silence before he realized that the human had already fallen asleep, lips still slightly parted, expression so gentle amongst the softness of the blankets. As if on cue, the timer on the lights clicked, and they flickered off to preserve the compound’s energy. Youngjae gently closed the door.

The three ‘brothers’ spent the rest of the night talking, trying to plan around Daehyun’s sudden appearance in their life. By the time the lights kicked back on, they determined that Daehyun would understand that they needed to go to work, that they would dump half of the fruit into the compost and bring the other half home as to not arouse suspicion as to why the composting wasn’t as productive as usual. Rather than sleeping at night, Daehyun could perhaps sleep during the day so that they could socialize with him when otherwise they’d be at the preserve while he was awake. He wasn’t allowed, as harsh as it felt, to leave the home, given the consequences that could occur if he was seen. Luckily the shower was attached to Youngjae’s room, meaning he wouldn’t have to leave the home to use it.  
This would work for six more days until Himchan returned. Youngjae could only predict the elder’s anger, but there was no use in worrying about the inevitable. He would make the best decision out of all of them, knowing the Uppers best. Depending on Himchan’s decision, they would either keep Daehyun (the unlikely, but favorable path), or they would notify the Uppers of his existence.

But what then? Would they adjust certain things to suit his human needs? Would they send him back out into the wasteland? Would they search for the humans he’d sheltered with before and try to take them in as well? Youngjae didn’t personally know any of the Uppers, who managed order within the compound, and he didn’t know how fair or kind they might be to a human. Humans in fairy tales were much easier to worship and study than a real human, one with flaws (though Youngjae found them interesting) and differences from the stories they’d been told all this time.

“This is complicated.” Jongup’s voice was gentle in all of its uncertainty, and Youngjae simply nodded in response. It was. He’d never expected that his life could become so difficult only a day past it revolving around ripping up peaches and watching tv shows. It didn’t feel worth it, all of this effort, until he remembered what the alternative would’ve been in a situation where he didn’t lift Daehyun out of the snow and ice.

And even now, looking at the unsettled, heavy future, he knew that it would’ve been impossible for him to have just let the human die.

Junhong brought him out of his thoughts, his calm breath releasing a sigh as if trying to release the weight from his chest, before he muttered, “Well, we’ll do what we can. You know Himchan’s going to send him straight to the Uppers, and after that it’s out of our control. Best we keep him hidden until Himchan comes back though and makes that decision himself, right?”

Right, that was best, Youngjae believed. But even still, it would be a challenge. Seven days until Himchan’s return meant seven days they had to keep Daehyun fed, clean, and out of sight. But as he returned to his room and watched the human sleeping peacefully, still somewhat trembling under the three blankets Youngjae had on his bed, the hominus decided that the struggle would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I hope you liked this chapter and this story so far. Please tell me your thoughts and predictions in the comments. Feedback really motivates me and helps with the writing process. Also, this chapter is coming out so soon since I already had it written and a lot of people said they were excited for the next chapter haha. So I thought that there was no point in making you wait. I don't have the next chapters entirely written out though like I had this one, so please expect a bit of a longer wait time until the next chapter so that I have time to write it well. Take care!


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